


The Art of Submission

by XladyXdimitresuX



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, F/F, Knifeplay, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:49:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29561472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XladyXdimitresuX/pseuds/XladyXdimitresuX
Summary: TW: blood kink, knife playIn which I have been writing really soft shit lately and needed a little bit of rough and soft together.
Relationships: Lady Dimitrescu (Resident Evil) & Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 85





	The Art of Submission

Nothing really hurt when it was with Alcina. Even when it did, it didn’t. Because as soon as she brought you down to you breaking point she brought you back to heaven. Taking you apart and putting you back together was her favorite game, like you were a puzzle that she never got tired of no matter how many times she solved it. She always knew where that last puzzle piece fit to send you toppling over into the oblivion of bliss. When did this become the only thing you lived for? Once upon a time there were things you had planned for your life other than living in the shadow of the woman who hovered above you and pressed you into her bed. Dreams of accomplishing great things, of changing the world, of becoming what you always wanted to be. You wonder when you stopped caring. 

The moment she drags her claw across your thigh and draws a few beads of blood you watch yourself drip onto the sheets. It stings, you writhe, she holds your hips down. Her tongue replaces the pain just as soon as she gives it to you. She does it again, this time on the other thigh; she hates asymmetry, especially on her precious art. That’s what you are to her: a canvas that she paints in your own blood. A canvas that she can make bleed and turn black and blue then start all over again within a week. She tells you how beautiful you are, how much you are hers with her marks all over you, the marks that will never go away. You feel beautiful for the first time in your life. She tells you to beg for more, and you do. You want the pain because you know that it’s worth the pleasure.

When she finally bites you there’s hardly an inch of skin on your legs that hasn’t been left unscathe in some fashion by her claws. The first bite is always a test to see how far gone you are, to see how aroused you are and to see how much more you can take. Some days it’s intoxicating and you never want her to pull away. Others you can’t handle it and she stops to give you your rewards. This isn’t about torture, she would never. That wouldn’t satisfy her needs. After the bite, she takes her time licking away the blood still beading on the fresh cuts on your legs until she reaches where you are aching for her. Your heart flutters and you think it may fly out of your rib cages straight into the sun as her tongue makes first contact. She pushes your legs against your chest with one arm until the stretch burns and your blood smears against your clean skin. With her free hand she presses a finger into you and you whimper. She chuckles low in her throat, the vibrations reverberate throw you and you know that she isn’t satisfied with your response.

“Do I not satisfy you, little one? Let’s fix that.” She purrs into you as she slides a second into you. Your hands fly to her hair, pulling it tightly. She lets out a moan of her own and you feel a pride bubble in your already pounding chest. Anytime you make her feel good is worth a million moons to you. However, your pride is short lived before she has you on your knees in a second. She is kneeling off the side of the bed to get a better angle while she presses your face into the mattress by the hair. Of course you couldn’t have any sort of advantage over her. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t prefer it that way: full submission. Without warning, she slides a third finger into you. It only burns for a moment, and she slows while you adjust before resuming her rough pace. You turn your head to bury your face into the mattress but she pulls you by your hair so you are backed against her chest.

“I want to hear you… I want everyone to hear you, little one.” She leans in close to growl in your ear before she sinks her teeth into your neck. You scream, the pain and pleasure overriding your senses and you slip over into the universe between reality and euphoria. Her hand never skips a beat even as she feeds from you and you reach behind you to dig your nails into her skin, whatever you can reach. You wonder for a minute if you can draw blood from a vampire. Even after she releases her fingers from you, she continues feeding from you until you start to relax and feel faint. Then she releases you and lays you down gently. 

You melt into the bed, feeling nauseous but at peace. One day she will kill you but you don’t know if you care anymore. She crawls over you, shifting her weight so as not to completely crush you. You feel small and weak in her presence, used and useless. But at the same time you know you are her everything, she tells you and she shows you every day in the way she doesn’t kill you. In the way she kisses you now and strokes to tears away from your cheeks that you didn’t even know had fallen. The way she tells you she loves you in every way but saying the words. Yes, you may be her pet and her toy, but she was yours just as much as you were hers.


End file.
